Chapter 15: (Ch. 14) Meredith And Phillip [Breather/Poll]

Chapter 14

Meredith And Phillip

Days afterward, the wretched bog hag continuously haunted Meredith’s thoughts as she tensely went about her duties, tending the garden and manning the shop. She needed to vent, but neither Victor nor Phillip had visited, so she had nobody to talk to about it. She had told Cici and Thomas about the situation, but they didn’t know that it still bothered her, and she didn’t want them to worry or think she was broken or anything. It didn’t feel right to bother them with it. She just wanted to move on, but that proved difficult when a gray-haired woman entered the shop one day, eliciting a memory of the bog hag’s wretched face. Meredith stood behind the counter, frozen in fear, until Cici pawed her hand.

“You okay?” He mewed.

Meredith snapped back to reality.

“Yeah! I’m fine!”

Meredith continued to mull. She couldn’t call Grandma about the hag situation; she had been so nonchalant and practically told her to toughen up after the vampire attack. Meredith didn’t want to cause an issue. Nor did she want to worry her parents. They would undoubtedly command her to return home, which Meredith didn’t want. She was determined to finish her summer running the shop; she loved it! However, that reminded her that she needed to hire messenger owls and write her parents more often. Why the hell didn’t they have a magical mailbox like Grandma? Surely, Grandma taught Meredith’s mother something!

During a particularly dull day at the shop with nary a customer, Meredith fiddled with the hem of her dark green robes, bored. Cici had disappeared, the shop was straightened up, and Thomas’ lesson had been learned. Meredith was quite bored but remembered the gold communicator Phillip had given her. She regretted not contacting the Dragon Rider during her confrontation with the bog hag, not that she had time to. But, she thought, perhaps he could still be of some assistance. Maybe she could vent to him. She needed to get it off her chest, and for some reason, she felt comfortable doing so with Phillip. He did say she could contact him if she wanted to talk.

The young witch fished the device out of her bag and surveyed it. It looked like a gold pocket watch but with a strange, curved attachment. Meredith pressed it and discovered it was a notched button. It clicked, but Meredith didn’t know what to do afterward.

A few moments later, Phillip’s voice crackled as it emitted from the golden device.

“Hold down the button and talk. Let go when you’re done.”

Meredith did so.

“Hey, it’s Meredith. Do you have a moment to talk?” She waited for the magic to work. After a short pause, the communicator crackled and buzzed with Phillip’s voice.

“Meet me at the hill we raced at.”

Meredith put the communicator back in her bag, closed the shop, and left on her broom.

It was a warm, sunny day, and Meredith didn’t take long to find and arrive at the grassy hilltop. She circled above it.

Salinda sunbathed off to the side. As Meredith swooped lower, she saw Phillip standing at the edge of the clearing with a canvas on an easel before him. Opposite him, two large, flat stones protruded from the earth. Meredith didn’t remember them being there.

The young witch landed behind Phillip and left her broom hovering in place. Salinda remained asleep, and Phillip stooped over his painting. The grass crunched beneath her boots as she strode closer and peeked over his shoulder. The painted canvas depicted the hilly valley before them, with the Norwich River running through the forest and Greenwood in the distance, peeking around a hill. Its white cobblestone streets contrasted against the greenery.

“It’s beautiful,” Meredith stated as she came up beside him. She could smell the paint waft off the canvas.

“It is, isn’t it?” Phillip answered without turning. Meredith rolled her eyes.

“It’s a poor imitation of the real thing, though; that’s the real beauty.” He added another thin line of paint.

Meredith silently watched as Phillip dabbed his brush amidst the trees. She expected him to be pompous and self-aggrandizing but was surprised he wasn’t more so; he seemed a nature lover.

“But not as beautiful as you, Salinda!” Phillip hollered over his shoulder. Salinda snorted in approval but otherwise kept her eyes shut as she bathed in the sunshine.

Phillip leaned away from his painting, satisfied, and turned to Meredith.

“I’m glad you’re here. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the man-eating witch of Greenwood?”

Meredith was slightly taken aback.

“What do you mean?”

“I just finished an investigation on a particular witch in Greenwood, rumored to have eaten a thieving street urchin.”

Realization dawned on Meredith.

“Oh…”

“Oh indeed,” Phillip frowned, turned to Meredith, and folded his arms. “Central Command was quite irritated that rumors of a man-eating witch had reached them while my reports excluded the mention of any such foul creature. You can imagine the scolding I received.”

“Sorry about that,” Meredith muttered, abashed. “I didn’t realize—"

“That your little prank would have far-reaching consequences?” The half-elf tersely interrupted. “You stirred up a veritable hornet’s nest. Your joke spread up and down the Norwich. Other riders heard tale of a man-eating witch in my patrol zone and reported it up the chain of command. The council—the leaders of the Dragon Riders—summoned me, held a hearing, and thought me bewitched by you!”

“By me?!” Meredith exclaimed.

“Yes, though they realized it wasn’t the case,” Phillip sighed and relaxed. “They were tempted to reassign me due to dereliction of duty. Thankfully, with Salinda’s help, I convinced them to allow me to investigate and prove the rumors were unsubstantiated. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to track down that bard and his thieving brother.”

“I’m so sorry!” Meredith said sincerely. “I was just haranguing a thief and trying to scare him straight!”

Phillip looked at Meredith for a moment before he spoke.

“You seem unaware of your place in the world, Meredith, or how serious a threat you pose.”

“A threat?” Meredith stared at him incredulously. She took a hesitant and wary step back. Meredith knew that Dragon Riders policed the realm, but she didn’t know where Phillip was headed in the conversation.

“Indeed,” Phillip continued. “You have the capability to harness magic and are subject to no authority but your own. Magicians can kill on a whim. The rumor of a man-eating witch is a serious issue not to be ignored. Had I not convinced my superiors, they would have been intent on coming here themselves to kill you.”

Meredith’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

“I didn’t realize—"

“Of course you didn’t.” Phillip shrugged. “Why would you? I even went to your academy to find someone to vouch for you and clear your name. It truly is a joke to think a man-eater would emerge from such an…. unrefined education system.”

“Thank…you?” Meredith said, unsure if she should be offended. “I really appreciate you clearing my name. I had no intention of causing such an issue!”

Phillip’s shoulders dropped as he sighed and shook his head.

“It’s what friends are for,” he replied. “I know you didn’t come here to be lectured, but be more mindful of what you say in the future. Witches aren’t as feared as they used to be and have integrated well into society, but you must still be responsible with your words and actions.”

Meredith sighed, looking away to hide her embarrassment. She hadn’t realized her actions would have such far-reaching consequences—she’d have to talk to Patricia and get things straightened out—and the thought of Phillip considering her a friend surprised her. Meredith realized she was beginning to think of him as one as well.

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“Don’t be so dour,” Phillip said flippantly. “It’s all been sorted out. And the anti-theft bracelet you made that boy was a stroke of genius.”

“Aw, thanks.” Meredith smiled meekly.

“Just don’t tell people you’re going to eat them!” Phillip laughed. “Now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“Well.” Meredith glanced back at Phillip with a toothy smile. “It’s funny you mentioned man-eating witches.”

Phillip gestured towards the two stones, and the pair sat on them facing each other. Meredith recounted her confrontation with the bog hag and its lingering effects. As she did, a heavy weight slowly began to build up in her chest and threatened to choke her, and her eyes threatened to spill.

“I’m jittery all the time now.” Meredith’s voice was strained with emotion, “I’m up all night, and have to take half a dozen potions to fall asleep and keep her from my dreams. The other day, a woman came into the shop with hair like hers, and I nearly had a panic attack! My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest; I was hot and cold and sweaty and nauseous and dizzy and felt like I was dying!”

The Dragon Rider listened intently and silently. Salinda remained motionless but watched Meredith with her massive bronze eye. The young witch gasped. Emotion welled up within her, choking her as she continued to vent.

Meredith eventually paused and took a steadying breath, trying to keep her feelings in check.

“Internal wounds can be just as harmful as external wounds,” Phillip stated. “You should be proud that you could defend yourself, and it’s understandable that such a harrowing experience still haunts you. A riveting tale of heroism in a tavern is a nightmare when lying awake in bed.”

“But why, though?” Meredith shouted. “Why does it still bother me? Why am I so irritable now? I feel so stressed about something that happened weeks ago!”

“Give it time.” Phillip raised his palm towards her. “Internal wounds take time to heal, just like an external one. You wouldn’t yell at a scab for not healing fast enough, would you?”

Meredith shook her head, her emotions getting the best of her. She buried her face in her hands. Her thoughts continued to spiral as her pent-up emotions spilled out. Phillip placed a hand on her shoulder as she cried.

Through the racing thoughts and heaving sobs, Meredith realized how thankful she was for Thomas’ and Grandma’s training. She knew she wouldn’t have survived otherwise. At the academy, while living with her parents, she had never gone through anything like her confrontation with the hag. She had won plenty of duels, but they were controlled and didn’t result in death. The vampire affair was concluded quickly, and Cici and Thomas helped. She felt confident in their assistance, but against the hag, she had been alone. She had to desperately struggle against the bog witch, much like Cici did against the vampire.

Amongst the many emotions she felt at that moment, Meredith felt most like a monster. She lamented that she had never followed up with Cici to make sure he was doing okay. He could be as emotionally tumultuous as her, but she never checked up on him! How could she? If he felt anything like Meredith did, she needed to comfort him. She was determined to rectify that.

After a while, Meredith’s eyes could cry no more, and she felt empty and numb. She was emotionally spent.

“I’m sorry to come here and dump all this on you,” Meredith mumbled. She wiped her sleeve across her tingling face and puffy, blood shot eyes.

“It’s fine. I told you that you could call whenever,” Phillip replied gently. “I get it.” He gestured towards his easel. “That’s one of the reasons why I paint.”

“It helps?” Meredith croaked. Phillip nodded.

“It helps me focus and process things at a slower pace. May I tell you a relevant story?”

Meredith nodded.

“A few years ago,” Phillip started. “When Salinda and I were trapped in a cave with our backs to a wall, the only way out was a small circle of light in the distance and hundreds of giant spiders between us and the exit. Salinda was much smaller then, and I was inexperienced. We were both terribly wounded. I feared for our lives; I thought we would die in that cave as spider food, hardly a footnote in the history books.

“Well, over a hundred spiders later, Salinda and I emerged from the cave, victorious, and flew to the nearest village for aid and rest. The situation makes for a grand tale, but sometimes, the memory still bothers me. I can’t help the excited fury that engulfs my body when I see a common house spider, but I calm myself and remind myself that I’m safe. I can’t help my initial reaction but can control what I do afterward. Just because a reminder appears does not mean I must succumb to the memory. I accept the feeling and fear and let it wash over me. It takes work to wrangle your emotions, but it can be done with diligence, determination, and patience.”

“You sure know a lot about this kind of stuff,” Meredith breathed. She felt lighter. She was glad to have someone to relate to.

“We are taught to master ourselves in many ways when training to be a Dragon Rider.” Phillip smiled. “A good friend recommended painting. It has helped tremendously. Any hobby can help, so long as it necessitates focus and is done in moderation. The thoughts seep in, and you can slowly come to terms with and process them.”

“Your friend sounds smart.”

“She was,” Phillip replied. “She and her dragon died in that cave.”

“I’m so sorry!” Meredith covered her mouth. She had never felt such emotional whiplash. She didn’t know what to say, as she had never dealt with death.

“It’s the life of a Dragon Rider.” Phillip waved his hand. “We’re placed in dangerous situations. You either rise above the challenge or succumb to it, just like every other living being.”

He paused for a moment.

“I know I may come off a tag egotistical—"

“Just a tad?” Meredith quipped, alleviating some of the tension in her chest. Salinda snorted.

“But,” Phillip continued unabashed as his eyes grew distant. “I personally don’t believe any life holds greater importance than any other. The world, in that regard, is very black-and-white to me. You either live or die. Eat or be eaten. The strong survive, and the weak perish. If I can’t survive, then I don’t deserve to live. Yet, for some reason, those damn spiders still haunt me. But I don’t think my friend was weak. I just hold that standard to myself.”

The half-elf paused, then shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t really know where that came from. I guess I needed to trauma dump a little too. Sorry, I’m prattling on. I just wanted to convey that I understand what you’re going through.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for listening,” Meredith replied, taking a steadying breath. The two sat in silence for a moment. But then she sighed in frustration as overwhelming anger rose into her chest.

“It’s just so stupid!” Meredith exclaimed. “The whole ordeal was over some dumb mushrooms!”

The young witch laughed hysterically as her emotions re-emerged and bubbled to the surface.

“Fucking mushrooms!”

Meredith laughed until she cried. Phillip sat silently. The pair remained that way atop the sunny hilltop. All had grown silent as Meredith’s sobs echoed through the hillside.

Eventually, her remaining stress poured out.

“Oh gosh,” Meredith sighed, wiping her face with her dry sleeve. “I must look like a puffy mess.”

“Bah.” Phillip waved the notion away.

Meredith sat silently and stared off into the distance, empty and processing. Finally, she said, “I need to think up some hobby to help take my mind off things.”

“What do you like to do?”

Meredith thought for a while.

“I love flying, but maybe I’ll also take up painting. I’m not particularly good at it, but I had fun the few times I tried.”

Phillip held his hand up and made an intricate series of gestures with his fingers while muttering an incantation. The saddle lying beside Salinda rustled as art supplies floated out. Soon, a canvas, easel, and various paints and brushes appeared before them.

“Let’s try it out,” Phillip said. He gathered the supplies and set them up beside his previous painting. Meredith followed him, and the pair painted and talked for a while as they overlooked the valley. Meredith slowly grew calm as she spread the paint across the canvas.

They discussed the different ways to harness magic; Meredith had never seen hand signs. Phillip explained that it was a subset of the magical systems many Dragon Riders learn, and the two compared their educations.

After a while, the pair stepped back from their finished paintings. Meredith was proud of what she created, though it was a more abstract copy of the valley. Her chest felt lighter.

“I’ll talk to my superiors about the bog hag.” Phillip decided. “Two known attacks within my patrol…they better hear it from me before the rumor mill.”

“Oh!” Meredith exclaimed. “I should tell you about the vampire! And the weird, dark energy spots!”

Phillip held his face in his hand and sighed in exasperation.

“I’m going to need another canvas.” Phillip shook his head as he made another series of hand signs and muttered a spell. Two more canvases whizzed out of the saddlebags and hovered before Phillip. He handed one to Meredith, and they painted again while she recounted the vampire attack and the strange auras Francene happened upon.

“Thank you for informing me…eventually.” Phillip grimaced as he mixed the paint on his pallet.

“I’m surprised you’re not chastising me.” Meredith laughed, and Salinda snorted. Meredith was glad the dragon shared her sense of humor.

“You’ve had enough for today.” Phillip smirked.

The pair continued to paint and chatted all the while. Phillip told Meredith about the various dragons' colors, traits, and commonalities. He explained Dragon Rider traditions, such as holidays and coordinating their wardrobe and weapons to match their dragon.

“A bronze may not grow as large as a gold,” he said. “But they still reach formidable sizes, and a furious dragon is not to be trifled with, regardless of size or color.” Salinda let loose a low, throaty grumble in agreement. “There aren’t many famous tales of bronze dragons and their riders, but I plan to change that!”

Meredith began to understand his pompousness; Phillip had a chip on his shoulder! He was chasing glory. The pair continued to talk until an easy lull in the conversation settled between them. They were both enraptured with their work. Finally, Meredith loosened her steady focus and took a break.

“What’s so special about this spot in particular?” She asked as she leaned back and examined her work in progress.

“Salinda and I camp here occasionally,” Phillip answered. “Salinda ripped up the foliage and set down some rocks for me to sit on. We plan on sprucing it up over time. Plus, it’s a reliable distance from many of the towns I patrol. It has a good view, too, don’t you think?”

“It does.” Meredith agreed as she stared at the distant, mostly hidden village. They stood in silence once again. A slight breeze cooled her warm skin, and her loose curls wafted lazily. Meredith felt lighter and relaxed. It felt good to focus on something outside of constant work and to confide in someone, especially one who understood her plight.

Later that night, after Meredith channeled some spare energy into her power gems, she lit a candle and lay in bed under the blankets with Cici curled up on her chest. She steadily stroked her hand down his back as crickets chirped outside. Meredith thanked him again for helping her against the vampire.

“Of course.” Cici purred.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he said. “I was a little jittery for a few days, but I’m fine now. Why do you ask?”

“Just checking.” Meredith smiled as she continued to stroke his fur until they both fell asleep.